Bones & Shadows
by Sanqhian
Summary: There is something that Martin wants to tell Danny.  slash


Things proceeded around the office as usual. There was always a case up on the white board with a few pictures, a handful of scrawled notes. He let his eyes roam over the black marker words, his hand hesitating briefly over a particular sentence. The words sent a chill traveling slowly down the length of his spine. His eyes traveled over the rest of the board, words blurring to black, as he took in the image of the young man featured in this particular missing person case. Those eyes looked so alive, so full of life, the skin a rudy shade of pink, the brown hair a bit messed up.

He let his hand fall away as he turned his back to the board. Noise consumed the floor, people at desks talking on phones while they attempted to make headway on one case or another. Sam Spade with her blond hair pulled up in a tight, neat ponytail scribbled furiously on a pad of yellow legal paper. She frowned, the tip of her tongue just barely sticking out from between two pink lipsticked lips. Elena Delgado sporting a stylish pantsuit bent over at Vivian Johnson's desk, the two of them conversing in hushed tones. It was hard to make out what they were saying but judging by the smile on Elena's face, the dancing light in her eyes, it must have been a topic they both greatly enjoyed. Probably a discussion on their kids.

He looked around with hopes of spotting the one person he wanted to talk to, but the desk sat vacant, empty, a mess of paperwork scattered across the top. Hands shoved in pockets he began to wander around the wood and glass office. After the shooting he thought for sure they might change their minds on the amount of glass, but when all the hubbub died down everything was returned to normal. He could see into offices as long as the blinds had not been drawn by those who they belonged to. He took a casual stroll by Jack Malone's office, his boss sitting behind his desk with the phone in his hand. The senior agent looked tired, a bit beaten down. He paused at the door thinking it might do him some good to pop-in and say something. For a moment he hesitated, then entered the office. He let his eyes trail over the leatherbound books with their familiar titles. The black leather couch looked inviting. Awards and framed photos decorated the wall space in a tasteful manner. A small plant sat on the corner of Jack's office threatening to be pushed over by an ever growing stack of manila case folders.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Jack turned in his swivel chair, back now to the rest of the building. He could have stayed to listen to his boss drone on and on to the person on the other end, the words spoken with the heavy weight of sorrow, but he decided it might be best if he left. Continuing his search he made his way to the breakroom. Nobody made an attempt to stop him as he walked through the all too familiar halls. No one tried to engage him in conversation or even looked in his direction. After all these years, after proving himself time and time again he thought they might have gotten over the fact he was important.

At least to them.

He never felt all that important.

And when he first arrived in this place it was not exactly the transfer he'd been hoping for, not in the least.

But it stuck. The people grew on him. He made great friends, fell in love, had fun. Worked on some pretty gruesome cases that helped to jade his look on the world and the people inhabiting it. There was that one terrible night with the ambush and all the gunfire. It changed his life forever, took him down some interesting pathways, got him into a bit of trouble with the people that he cared about. Another brick in the wall of life. Another stepping stone that helped to build him into the person he currently was, a person he would not change for all the world.

Stepping into the breakroom he stopped momentarily in the doorway, inhaling deeply the scent of freshly brewed coffee. How he came to love the smell after so many late nights and early mornings. Standing near the window, resting lightly on the windowsill was the one person he'd been hoping to find. Dressed in a dark gray suit with a light green dress shirt, a forest green tie added for good measure, was the dark haired Danny Taylor. He clutched a still steaming cup of coffee in his hands, his eyes cast down toward the tile floor. What he saw there Martin did not know, but he worried it might not be a good idea to break his friend's train of thought.

But there was something he wanted to say.

"I'm sorry," he muttered the words. He waited a heartbeat to see what Danny would do and when his friend showed no sign of responding he spoke them a second time, somewhat louder. "Did you hear me? I said I was sorry."

The two of them had gotten into a fight earlier. A misunderstanding between friends. The sort of thing that happened all the time. He thought by now Danny might have gotten over the minor argument and be willing to speak with him again. Imagine, at their age playing games of Silent Treatment. It frustrated Martin to see Danny standing there acting like he wasn't even in the room. He wanted to yell, maybe curse under his breath, but where would it get him in the long run?

Martin let out a frustrating sigh, shaking his head. "Figures," he grumbled. "I finally say I'm sorry and you can't even be bothered to let me know you've forgiven me. What more do you want from me, Danny?"

Before Danny even had a chance to respond Jack poked his head through the door. "Work to be done. Let's go."

Danny drank down the last of his coffee, walked over to the sink and deposited the cup within. Hesitating, hands on the rim, head bowed the slightest, he let out a bit of a frustrated sigh. "Why you couldn't just leave well enough alone, Martin." The words came out softly, angered. With a shake of his head Danny stormed out of the breakroom, breezing right by Martin without even bothering to acknowledge his presence.

He tagged along with Danny sitting quietly in the passenger seat of the SUV. He let Danny do most of the talking while they interviewed people about a missing woman who failed to show-up for a babysitting gig she went to every day like clockwork. The way things went down in the breakroom Martin wanted to let Danny have some time to himself, let him get cooled down. What he should have done was talk to Jack about getting placed with Sam or Elena or even working with him and Vivian. He used to love working with Danny. Loved every minute of the time they spent together.

But recently things had changed.

It made his heart ache to think that all the big changes that took place over the last month, the last year, had gone away in a puff of smoke. No way was Danny going to hold such a strong grudge over a little mistake. A minor mistake that anybody could have made, especially in their line of work. How many times was he going to have to say he was sorry before it finally got through? And underneath all the anger swirling around Danny he picked up on the hints of the deeper sadness. The hollowness, that numbing feeling that came with the passing of bad news. Anybody who crossed Danny's path might have thought the world had just come crashing down around his shoulders.

"I hate this," Martin said as he watched the elderly gentleman they had been talking to close his door. "I wish you would talk to me, Danny."

Danny said nothing, stuffing his little notebook into an inner pocket of his suit jacket. The two of them headed back toward the car, Danny pausing briefly to call Jack and let him know what little bit of information he managed to gather from the guy. While he spoke Martin gazed at him fondly, conflicted. He should have told Danny how nice he was looking today in the dark suit with the pale green shirt and simple tie. The way his hair was just a little wild from the wind, his eyes always such a beautiful shade of chocolate brown. How he loved to spend endless hours gazing into those eyes, it always made him feel like he was floating through a cup of hot chocolate. Liquid, warm, sweet.

He turned away, climbing into the passenger. How was he going to make it up to Danny? How was he going to right the wrong between them, close the gap?

Martin managed to keep away from Danny for the rest of the day. He figured why should he risk making things worse? Unfortunately, his decision did nothing to keep him from worrying during the rest of the afternoon. He continued to argue with himself trying to figure out the next best thing to do. He wanted so desperately to make things right, to show Danny how sorry he was that things had gotten this bad, but the words just would not come. The words, all the right things to say in this type of situation failed him. By the time shift was over and everyone was heading home he had thought himself right into a stomachache. Quietly he rode down in the elevator with Danny.

It should have been an awkward silence.

Instead it was nothing more than sad.

The ride back to their apartment passed in silence, Danny shutting off the radio when the news report started. Martin trailed after him up the stairs to their place, wrinkling his nose briefly at the smell lingering in the hallway. Without fail it always managed to smell like burnt popcorn. He stepped into the apartment, the door closing behind him, the sound oddly loud in the otherwise quiet apartment. Martin let his eyes roam over the place, his heart starting to ache again. This was their home, the place they made filled with happy memories. He smiled wistfully as some of them played through his mind. Every once in a while he let an argument with his father slip through just to remind himself that not everyone was happy that he found love with Danny.

The two of them had started out as the best of friends. Neither of them expected things to end up the way they did, but then again, who does? The heart was a fickle thing and loved who it loved. Martin found himself wanting to spend more and more time with Danny, his friend in the same boat. It was only a matter of time before their friendship blossomed into something more. After a combination of failed relationships between the two of them it seemed like they had finally found the real deal. Within six months they were living together, bought a place of their own and sold their apartments. It was a big step, one they spent many nights talking about, one their friends completely backed. And then came the rings, a simple exchange of promises to one another, nothing more. A symbol of their love.

Martin gazed at the silver band on his ring finger.

It felt so cold.

Nobody else knew but recently they had been talking about going to a nearby state to get married, make the whole thing official. Their little secret. It filled Martin with such great joy to think he would be spending the rest of his life with Danny, the only person he wanted.

"Then you went and fucked things up," he muttered, shaking his head. "He's never going to forgive you for this one."

He stayed out of Danny's way while his lover went through the motions of stashing his things for the night, moving about the kitchen looking for something to eat (settling on an old piece of pizza) and settled in front of the telly. The two of them watched the beginning of a basketball game without exchanging a word. Martin kept opening his mouth to say something, but then closing it as he realized what he wanted to say was just going to come out all wrong. Eventually the clock dinged close to midnight and Danny shut off the TV.

Martin hesitated, unsure of what to do next. He could follow Danny into the bedroom, but would it be the right thing to do? He swallowed down his nervousness and struck out for the private room. Just the other day they had fallen into bed together in a fit of giggles. He couldn't remember what it had been that set them off, but he cherished the memory none the less. Entering the bedroom he found Danny sitting in the dark on the edge of the bed, something held in one hand. Martin walked quietly over to get a look at what turned out to be a picture.

It tugged at his heartstrings.

"Dammit, Danny, I'm sorry," he said in frustration, desperation. "I never…please, please just say you forgive me."

"You ass," Danny muttered, letting the picture fall to the floor. The glass cracked. "You selfish ass. Why couldn't you just listen to me?"

"What do you want me to say?" Martin pleaded, ready to fall to his knees. "I would take it all back in a heartbeat, Danny, you should know that by now. Danny….please."

Danny hide his face behind his hands, a second later the sound of sobbing could be heard in the small space. Martin felt a lone tear work its way slowly down his cheek. Falling to his knees in front of Danny he reached out to touch him, pulling his hand away at the last moment. "If I could right this, Danny, I would, but…"

Abruptly Danny wiped away the tears, swinging his legs onto the bed. He lay back, eyes on the ceiling. Martin remained where he kneeled on the floor. How was he going to get through to Danny? For lack of anything better to do he walked to the other side of the bed, made himself comfortable atop the comforter. Again, the silence should have been awkward. He wanted nothing more than to have Danny yell at him, make him feel worse, let it all out. He certainly felt as though he deserved it. Danny turned on his side, his back to Martin, curled in the fetal position. He started crying in earnest.

"Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone?"

Martin sat up gripped by anguish. He felt a stinging pain in his chest. When he looked down he saw the blood on his shirt. The sticky warmth of it just to the left of his heart.

"Damn you, Martin," Danny cursed him. "Why did you have to go and leave me here all alone?"

"I didn't know," whispered Martin. "I didn't see him standing there. He surprised me. Please Danny, I'm sorry."

Danny curled up tighter, hugging himself. "I miss you, Martin. Oh god, how I miss you."

Martin reached out wanting desperately to place a loving, comforting hand on Danny's back, but knew in the long run it would have been futile. Danny couldn't hear him. The man he loved with all his heart couldn't hear a single word, couldn't feel the slightest of touches. He hated to remember what it had been like in those last moments. They had been so close to rescuing him, so close to bringing him back safely and he made such a foolish move that cost him everything. To feel the warmth leaving his body, the blood spreading across his chest while Danny held him close. The anguish and sorrow, the fear in those brown eyes he loved so dearly. Danny pleading with him to stay. Martin knowing all the while that he wasn't going to make it. And in those last few seconds Danny muttered the most important words, the same words Martin wanted to hear over and over again for the rest of his life.

"I love you," he whispered to Danny's back, repeating them. "I'll always love you."


End file.
